Love Lesson Learned

Another lesson learned today. Volunteering today at OMSI, I trained a new person for the Pompeii exhibit. She was a bit difficult, in that she gradually tried to take over the whole job we were sharing. Fortunately, I was soon offered another position and fled. The work isn’t hard and she could do it fine on her own by that time. I felt increasingly “off” the rest of the day. I left around lunch and tried to nap and meditate after I go home, but couldn’t, because I was too wrapped in anger and despair that seemed to come out of nowhere. It wasn’t long before that that I noticed I had a raw throat, like I was coming down with a cold. Then I spent a couple of hours finished up a project, and then tried again to meditate. This time was more successful, but, after a while, I discovered myself seemingly “trapped” in a golden place. Well, not really gold, more amber, but you get the idea.

I wasn’t really trapped, it just felt like it. Like my body was asleep, I was awake, but I was in this amorphous place that was big and empty. I was floating in the center of this big empty, in fact, I was in a center of a spherical clearing, surrounded by patchy clouds, and behind them was an amber glow. The place had a sense of being hollow and echo-y. I felt very alone.

It was odd to be there. I’ve never had this happen before. The sense of being cut off from the outside world was very strong. I wondered why for a bit, then tried to get outside or reach outside, with only limited success. I remember seeing a patch of ocean, but it was like through a dirty window, and hard to maintain the image. I tried to imagine other places or reach people, but I only had a pale shadow of success. I sent out a distress call to a dear friend to please, please send me a message, a text, to get me out of this place. A part of my mind mocked my efforts, saying that she didn’t care anyway and all this “connection” stuff was just a sick illusion, a lie that I told myself. Fortunately a text did come, within a few minutes, and the sound help me get up.

During the meditation I had focused on my sore throat, with some success, but I couldn’t get any handle on what was going on: was I tired? Had I been talking too much over the past few days, (Volunteering usually requires a lot of talking to patrons!)? I had managed to move the pain from the back of my throat, up higher and it was much less. But, still, I felt distinctly unhappy, sad and lonely, and if that wasn’t enough, the emotions were confused and didn’t seem attached to any thoughts or things that had happened. I sent a distress text to my friend, hoping she could cheer me up a bit, but I couldn’t just sit around a wait, it was getting to dinner time and I was expecting to host a group later, so I had to get up and make something to eat. Then, I was standing over the stove, the answer occurred to me: I had picked up a “hitchhiker!” I don’t know why these things aren’t more obvious to me. Perhaps I just don’t trust my instincts enough yet, or maybe I just have so much internal “noise” that I don’t really catch external influences. Anyway, now I knew.

It took a few minutes to get his attention. Yes, “his,” it felt male and I got the name “Bill,” which was good enough for my purposes. He wasn’t very communicative, but it didn’t take more that a few minutes to get him to notice the “light” and connect with someone he knew, who then took him on. And then he was gone, and the sadness started lifting, but there was still a residue left behind.

My friend hadn’t replied yet, so I let her know, briefly, what had happened, and it wasn’t long before she did cheer me up. She has the ability to make me cry, laugh and feel loved, all with a few texts. And life was good again.

All this happened in the space of one afternoon, and it showed me a few things about myself. One, I think this is the first time I have ever reached out for help when feeling down. I have always had this unspoken idea that I’m supposed to hide unhappy feelings and “be strong” for other people, or, at least, don’t “be a bother.” I’m just supposed to hide and never expect support. This episode has shown me the personal value of relationship and mutual support.

The next thing I got was the understanding that you can’t really be much help to anyone else unless you are willing and able to accept support yourself. Until I was willing to accept support, I didn’t know how it felt or how to do it. I could say the words and go though the motions, but I didn’t know what it felt like to give or receive genuine support. And I’m sure the people I’ve tried to help over the years picked up on that. They knew my actions were hollow, with no real understanding or commitment. It has taken a willingness to be vulnerable, to expose my weaknesses and fears, deep fears, and allow them to be acknowledged, accepted, and soothed, to teach me what it feels like to be truly supported, warts and all. And now that I know what unconditional support feels like, I am better able to offer that to others.

I know this didn’t just happen, all at once, but has been a gradual thing. It’s just that today, for the first time, I saw how well it can work, when I need it. And I see, for the first time, how amazing, truly supportive relationships can be. This has been a real sys-opener for me, and I hope everyone reading this has the opportunity to get beyond the fear, and the needs to hide, manipulate or dominate others, and just get to know what it’s like to accept, and be accepted, unconditionally. There’s nothing like it!

Spirit Under Glass

Those who know me know that I go to a lot of MeetUps. Sometimes up to six a week. Hey, it gets me out of the house, it's generally fun, and I've now met enough people that I usually know someone wherever I go. A few months ago I made a new friend with an unusual problem and this post is about that problem. This is a cautionary tale, it ended well, but it pays to be aware that there might be "extra features" included when you buy stuff at flea markets and thrift stores.

There is one MeetUp that I'd been meaning to go to since I first came here, and then I finally found the time to go. When I showed up, only one other person was there, aside from the host, and it seemed like the host had suffered a mild stroke or something and didn't seem functionally present, so we pretty much talked between ourselves the whole time.

The MeetUp was a discussion group around the book Fringe-ology, and the other person was a older woman who had considerably less exposure to the paranormal than I had, but was curious. She had published a novel that included past lives and she thought she might have a spirit in her house. Long story short, I visited her house to pick up a copy of the book and immediately felt the presence of a spirit there. That was very unusual for me, I have never before have I felt such a strong presence. And it was centered around the stairs that lead to the second floor. At some point, I'm not sure when, I realized that the presence was actually focused at a glass display case at the head of the stairs.

We talked for a while and I did an exploratory session with her that established that she was a very good subject, going under quickly and with good visualization skills. We set up an appointment for a few days later to work on this entity. She was worried that it might be the spirit of her dead partner, who had died in the house, and wanted it gone. My plan was to use her as a surrogate to communicate with the entity, and find out what I needed to persuade it to move on to the light. Best laid plans and all that.

When the day arrived she slipped easily into trance, and readily contacted the entity. The session was short, so I've included the full transcript below, along with a post-session conversation where she told the story of the "figures," set of Kachina dolls, that she had bought at a flea market in Denver, and added further information about the entity that didn't come out in the session. I like having the full transcript because it provides the flavor of the session and how the information was uncovered.

I've cut out most of my instructions where they didn't add to the story. My words are in italics.

Start of trance session.

"I think he was…he performed, or he participated, in these ceremonies. He may have been one of the figures.

He’s not a great talker.

He’s not showing me very much. He’s saying that the most important thing is just to be.

What is his purpose in being here?

He didn’t have anywhere else to go.

Why is that?

He’s been cutoff, somehow…from his life.

So, what happened?

He had to leave. Something awful happened. He wasn’t thrown out, but there’s something he can’t forgive.

Where was he?

Somewhere down where there’s sand, a desert. He says it’s a place where I’ve been. He’s telling me, “You know the place.”

Can he show you that place from your own memory?

He says I drove onto it. Oh, it’s somewhere near Santa Fe. No, no, he says, “You drove onto the reservation.” I’m seeing the reservation houses. They’re all sandstone buildings, and there’s no landscaping around them. They don’t landscape at all. I remember driving on to that reservation. Acoma, Acoma Pueblo.

What was it like when he was there?

Things don’t change.

What were the people like?

He says they were already breaking apart.

In what way?

They were leaving, they were going their separate ways. They weren’t coherent. Not as it had been when he was growing up.

How old was he at this point?

I not seeing…he’s not showing me that. No ideas are coming into my mind.

Ok. What was he purpose at that time?

He went out to catch an eagle. He was very much into the culture, and the traditions.

Oh, it changed. It changed a great deal when Los Alamos was started. He says that’s when it started. The Los Alamos project put a lot of people…strangers…and things are not the same. I see Santa Fe, as it was, [can’t understand]. He’s showing me Santa Fe, I can see it. There’s still horse carts on the road. And there’s the hotel. And everything’s adobe, it looks very different.

What was being lost?

[can’t understand], the sense of who they were. They sold out. He’s saying that they sold out. And he spoke up, in meetings. He said that they were selling out. But they wanted the money, they wanted the development. He said, “Is that who we are, sitting outside the governor’s place selling jewelry? Is that who we are?” He said, “What are you going to do next? Are you going to sell tickets to the festivals?” And so he left.

Where did he go?

He took a construction job. He went to Denver.

Then what happened?

I think he was killed. I think he was killed in a accident. And no one know who he was. And they took the things he had brought with him…and they were sold.

What are those things?

He had ritual things. He had sacred feathers, and pottery, and sand painting. And he had the kachinas. But there were more. And he says he doesn’t want to go back.

Go back where?

To where he started. He doesn’t wish to return.

His home? Where he was born?

Yeah, he doesn’t want to go back to the desert where he was born.

Perhaps it’s time to return to the Source?

He opening up his arms, to the sun.

Is there someone he knows and trusts, that has past on before him?

He said himself, he’s made a promise to himself. He says I cannot help him.

Help who?

Him. Whoever this person is. That’s why he…he says he is the wanderer.

What is his purpose?

I don’t think he knows.

What is the promise he made to himself?

Meaning. He’s looking for meaning. He thought he knew. He says, what he liked about me, is that I’m looking for the same thing.

Is he attached to all his old possessions?

He says, some of them are long lost. Some have been destroyed. These were the only possessions that came into the hands of someone who understood them.

What do you want to do now?

He wishes to do one, he says, one glorious thing. Something, that when he talks to the elders who have gone before him, something he can present to them that gives some purpose to his life.

What kind of thing might that be?

He wants to teach. He wants someone to understand the old ways. Because he said they are sacred, beautiful, ways. He says I cannot help him, but I can be useful to him.

How would he do his teaching?

He says he has already started.

Good. Who is he teaching?

He has attracted…He’s attracted to the ceremonies. That is all he’ll tell me. He says these are the sacred mysteries. He is in this house because it is a safe, supportive place for him, while he pursues the things that give him joy and make it possible for him. He means no harm.

..., how comfortable are you having him here?
I feel rather blessed.

Is there anything he could do to make it a little more comfortable?
Tell me tales. When I sleep, tell me tales. Tell me the stories that you would have told the children. He told the stories to the children, when they sat in the kivas. I can see now, the ladder coming down. And the smoke, you climb down through the purifying smoke. And the children, sitting cross-legged around him in a circle.

Coyote. He’s telling stories of Coyote…Coyote and the jackrabbit…"

End of trance session

The post-session discussion starts here.

Start of recording

"Do you want me to tell the story of where I got those dolls from?

Yeah.

It was in an antique mall in Denver. It was a big one, the biggest one in Denver. So you can just imagine the size of it. And, I walked in and, the only way you can systematically do something that big is to just walk the aisles. And, as you go by these places, where the people have their stuff out, you just, sort of get a quick idea of what is there. You don’t have to stop at all. And I got down to this one particular place and, just something about it, it was very jumbled, and something about it sort of said, “You should come in and look.”

And so I sauntered in and looked around, and for the most part, there was no rhyme or reason to it. Just all sorts of things thrown together. Then all of a sudden I caught a glimpse of one of these Kachinas, down in the corner. In this cabinet and to the back. And there were actually four of them, and I only took three. And, something called me very much to them. And so I had to go get the guy, the manager to come and unlock the case, so I could pull them out and look at them.

Initially I only took two. Then when I got them home, there was sort of a sense of incompletion. So I felt very called. I had to drive clear across Denver to go back. The other two were still there, and I took the third one of them. I didn’t care as much, I didn’t feel drawn to the forth one so, it still may be up there. That’s how I got them.

I brought them home and I cleaned them up and replaced the feathers on MudHead, and they came down from Denver and have been part of me ever since. That’s how they came into my life. But I only started realizing that there was something going on with them when I brought them here. (She currently lives in Vancouver, Washington) Particularly when [her partner] died, that was back in December, that was when I realized that there was something going on with them. They’re very much a powerful influence.

Yeah, the strongest I’ve felt, personally.

And he (the spirit we call the Teacher) is not angry, he’s not upset, he’s just passionate. He’s passionate about what he believes. He’s passionate about the importance of it. And he wants to do something…what did he tell me…something…

Wonderful…?

Something important. And I don’t think it really involves me, it’s more I’m hosting him, providing him a place to collect himself.

Or a platform to…if it’s…telling his stories and getting his information out there is part of the process. Perhaps when certain people see it, perhaps they might be drawn to it.
Well I think I will still see if I can send his Kachinas back. Because he is, despite his feelings, he is part of that. That pueblo. He may have left them and he may deny that he is, but he is. And if I can send them back then, perhaps, that will bring him some peace. But I think that even if I send them back, that he is going to leave. He’s found a comfortable and congenial place because I value the same things he does. And as long as he finds it meaningful, I’m not going to object too much to it.

But I can tell him that I would like that if he is the one that showed me that cavern, with the carved figures…when I did my own…

[instructions]

Generally I’ve tried to meditation, but I have so much static, so many people coming at me, that I don’t always really get through to that place of calm.

What do you mean, so many people coming at you?

I’m aware of presences, as I start to go down. I’m aware my husband’s talking to me, I’ve got my mother, I’ve got all sorts of wild things going through my mind. It’s very difficult to get beyond them. And this time that I did, I was shown the picture of a large eye. You know, the third eye?

Yeah, Ok.

And that when I went through that eye, into what was beyond, I think I told you there was someone with me, who was showing me? I found myself going through the light, going into a huge cavern, where there was…it was infinite. You couldn’t see the beginning or the end or anything. And I was taken into a side room, and it was almost as if somebody had a flashlight, or something was illuminating the walls. Because I thought that if this was the Akashic records…I was expecting them to be books, and in English. And it wasn’t.

All of the walls were intricately carved, almost like alabaster or marble, intricately carved with…it looked like Indian art. You know those three-dimensional friezes where they have all these figures? You know, east Indian, real India. You got these three-dimensional friezes of figures, often quite sensual?

Ok

And the whole wall, and the ceiling…you couldn’t see the ceiling, everything was covered with these intricate carvings, and I was told, this is your soul group. This is where you belong.

And that has always been an issue for me. Where do I belong? And so, essentially they’re telling me, “Stop worrying about where you belong, in the earth plain, this is where you belong. This is your group, so to speak. And that was very comforting. And the fellow that was with me, very reticent, very quite. I asked his name, and I got the message, “You’re not ready for this.” If that was him, then he could help me, if he wants to teach, then take me back. Show me, show me what is there. Because apparently he can also go backwards or forwards as he wishes.

End of recording



I think it's fascinating how the spirit taught her though pictures, even though she didn't know he was there. In the end the spirit left on it's own. He left her the understanding that she wasn't the person he needed to fulfill whatever purpose he had in mind.

This instance ended well, with the spirit comfortably gone and the dolls are now just regular dolls. It doesn't always happen that way: objects with energy or attachments of various kinds are out there and can cause significant trouble. Sometimes they can be cleared, but other times it's just better to get rid of them. One options is to send them to one of the Paranormal Museums that know how to handle and store these kind of objects in a safe manor. If you think you may have a haunted or cursed object, contact me and I'll see what I can do for you: AQuestioningSpiritTherapy@gmail.com.

Unexpected Benefits

This Sunday I attended the monthly Paranormal Pub, put on by MUFON and McMenamins. Admission is free and I find it’s a great way to spend a Sunday evening. And it’s only a short walk to several great pubs, if you don’t want to go home afterwards. The speaker this month was Susan Pease Banitt clinical social worker and author, talking about past life regression and it’s role in healing trauma. McMenamins serves a variety of adult beverages and I suspect that my partaking may have had a role to play in later events.

I like to show up early, so I can get my drink and get settled into my favorite spot before the crowd shows up. I struck up a conversation with the woman next to me, and then, as luck would have it, some people I’d met a few times before, at other events, showed up and joined us. The person who sat next to me was someone I thought was pretty cool, but that may be because I’m pretty sure this aint our first BBQ. I generally don’t say anything in these cases, it seems best to let sleeping dogs lie unless it comes up for some other reason.

At the end of her talk, Susan offered a group past life regression for anyone who wanted to stay. Of course, we all stayed.

My regression didn’t seem all the remarkable. I saw three scenes, all three were dominated by the big round eyes of a young girl, about six or so. I couldn’t see much else about her except a dress that tagged her as native american. For myself, I saw dirty, knobby, bare feet and extremely ragged pants. I got the impression that I was European, maybe mid thirties, and very dirty, ragged and in really bad shape. My impression is that I was the girl’s father, but I never knew about her, or I abandoned her mother before she was born. I saw nothing about the mother, so perhaps she was dead. It seems that, somehow, I’d found my way back to the tribe in this terrible state. The first scene seemed to take place in the late afternoon on a rainy, overcast day. The light had that particular flavor to it. The girl and I were standing outside. I think there might have been other people around. Nothing else happened.

In the second scene, it was night, and I was sitting with the girl, in front of a big fire, outside, with many other people. In this scene I had the impression of teepees in the background. Again, it was just a snapshot with no action.

In the last scene, I was lying on the ground, in the dirt, it was day again, morning perhaps, and the girl was standing next to me. I was dying. I was inside the camp, for there were a few people and teepees around, but no one was paying any attention to us. I soon raised up floated away, watching the scene grow smaller and smaller below me. The girl was watching me the whole time. The little girl was the person sitting next to me.

Afterwards, I felt...off. And the feeling got worse and worse as time went on. It only took a few minutes before I was fighting to hold it together against fear, shame and indecision. I just wanted to get out of there. Part of me was yelling at me to talk to someone and get some sort of help, but fear of “being a bother” took control and I fled without saying anything to anyone. I drove home, doing all I could to hold it together under an onslaught of fear, guilt and shame. I apologize to everyone there for being so rude as vanish without a word.

After a miserable night, I dragged myself up to see that nasty shadow was still there. I know I had to do something about it, I had an unusually busy day with clients and other appointments, and the last thing I needed was to have this cloud hanging over me, interfering.

Finally, my rational mind kicked in and the obvious dawned on me: I’d picked up a hitchhiker during the regression. That’s a new one on me, I’ve never even heard of even the possibility of that before! Fortunately I had time before my first appointment, so I had a conversation with my new tenant. I can’t remember his name now, but he actually was from that time. He and a girl had tried to run off together, but the men of the tribe had caught them and killed him. Somehow he managed to latch onto me and I pulled him into the present. It only took a few minutes to send him on. It felt do good, after all that turmoil, to be so relaxed and peaceful again. I couldn’t enjoy it long, though, places to go, people to see, and all that.

I can’t be sure of this, but I suspect that having some alcohol in my system made it easier for him to latch on to me. Maybe this was all meant to be, so it would have made no difference but, who knows? Another insight I’ve had about this is that I think that my reaction was so strong because his feelings hooked into and amplified latent feelings of my own. That could be another reason why and how he was able to effect me so strongly, his deep resonance with my emotions, on a subconscious level, that allowed him to slip past my normal defenses.

I’m sure he is gone, but an echo of his feelings still remain. So here’s another aspect of this whole incident: Perhaps his purpose was to help me to bring up and deal with emotions that I’d allowed to slide out of sight, where I could ignore them. This, and other events, are making it pretty clear that I’ll be confronting some uncomfortable issues pretty soon.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs?

I held a group regression at my place yesterday. Only one person showed up, even though I had a large number of RSVPs. She is a woman in her 70’s, single, living with her daughter and her daughter’s husband. I don’t know whether she’s divorced or widowed. She’s been to four of my group meetings before, and been hypnotized twice before. She considers herself a poor subject, but, as you will see, she’s quite the opposite.

I showed this text to the client and she added some comments that I put in quotes in the text.

After she arrived, we chit-chatted for about half an hour, waiting for others to show up. After catching up, we got on to the subject of my next meeting, which is “People Who Don’t Know They’re Dead,” by Gray Leon Hill. In the course of that conversation, we discussed the symptoms of spirit attachment and she suspected that she might have one, and she agreed to let me help her look into it, when we had time. Once enough time had passed that I was pretty sure no one else was showing up, I suggested that we skip the regression and explore the possibility of the “hitchhiker.”

My plan was to do a standard induction and then ask her subconscious (or higher self) if there were any other entities present. To that end, I had her imagine her beautiful place. But as she described that place, she mentioned that she was holding a book. That made me suspicious, and it only took a few more questions to determine that she was not in this lifetime. My guides said to go with it, so I did.

Client, “Either the book was written in a foreign language or I was unable to read, as I realized today that words in the book didn’t make any sense to me.”

She was a 12 year old girl, wearing an old, simple, dress that was too small. The left side of her face had some kind of defect or deformity that caused it to droop. She was sitting under a tree in a field of grass and could hear cows in the distance. There were trees around, but her area was mostly open.

When I asked her to go to the place where she lived, she chose, instead, to go to a cave. She always called it a “hole” for some reason, but, what she described was more like a large cave or system of caves. When she arrived, she was standing and looking up through an opening to the sky. She described the sky as so intense a blue as being almost purple. When she looked around, she saw a bunch of “little men” or elves working with fire and making metal things. (The client was laughing at this point, not believing what she was seeing) After a while, one of the “little men” took her out of the caves and back to her house. It was like she knew the way well enough, but one of the men always took her back when it was time.

She lived with a sister, that was a couple of years older, and a grown woman who seemed to be some kind of caretaker. The lived in a plain stone house off by itself. They seemed to be very poor, the house empty and very cold in the winter, and the food was pretty bad, yet they had this woman, who was not related to them, to cook and take care of them.

Long story short, her sister left four years later, she spend a lot of time with the elves, especially in the winter, when it was cold, and then she died at the age of 24. She apparently had some congenital problems, was constantly in pain or discomfort, and some injury had finally tipped the scales. The odd thing is, the buried her before she was dead. That’s not quite what you think, she felt herself being lowered into the grave and laid there looking at the sky, just a little indignant, but otherwise not particularly upset that they didn’t wait until she was dead. She died shortly thereafter, before they started to cover her up.

She then rose up, looked at the scene briefly, couldn’t answer any questions about the purpose of that life, then went to visit her sister. Apparently they were supposed to stay together their entire lives, and had tried this many times in the past, but each time, something always split them up. She seemed to be able to have this conversation with her sister, even though she wasn’t, physically, there.

After that, the client rose up into the sky, shedding the “weight” of her physical life, bit by bit, until she was just a few “molecules,” among countless other “molecules” of light. Each one a being. She was enraptured with the feeling of being part of the oneness again.

A remarkable thing happened at this point, her face changed: It looked dramatically younger, slimmer, and her skin looked like ivory. Her face reminded me of a classical greek statue. (At this point, I noticed a distinct scar, a straight line angling from her forehead to just outside of her right eye. Afterward, when we were talking, I couldn’t see it any more, and when I asked her about it she didn’t know what I was talking about.) She wanted to remain in this state, but something, or someone, was calling her to find another body and she didn’t want to.

Client, “I think this is fascinating. I saw my daughter’s face change that way once when she was describing a past life as a servant in an Egyptian temple whose job was to make sure that the lamps never went out.”

This seemed to be a good time to call in the subconscious, but there was a problem. Even though I got affirmatives when I requested to speak to the subconscious and ask questions, it wasn’t able to answer. The client saw a “big block” in front of the subconscious. So I started talking directly to the “big block.”

The blocks’ name turned out be Harry, and he’d been with the client since childhood. He joined her because she was self confident and he could undermine her confidence by constantly whispering discouraging and suicidal thought into her ear. (The client had mentioned earlier that she’d learned to distinguish these “not her” thoughts fairly early in her life and learned to block them out, mostly) Harry had died from indecision, his leg had been caught under a falling rock and he died from thirst before he could make up his mind about cutting off his leg.

Client, “I was told when I was in my 30s that I had an entity who had been attached to me for several lifetimes who sent me ‘death messages’ as a way of controlling me. The first time I consciously recognized this, I was driving over the bridge to Vancouver when I got a mental picture of myself driving off the bridge and being killed. From then on, I was able to recognize when those kind of messages were coming at me from the outside. When Rod asked Harry when Harry had attached himself to me, I ‘saw’ sets of numbers, and felt that Harry had attached himself in different lifetimes when I was 83, 49 and at birth.”

It took some convincing to get him to leave. He was very afraid of what “they” would do to him because of all the “bad” things he’d done. We eventually we able to locate a sister, I believe, that he cared about and trusted enough to let her take him into the light. At this point, the client was smiling and crying at the same time. I tried to find out what was happening here, but, between one thing and another, I didn’t get a clear answer.

Client, “I was overcome with joy at the point at which Harry left me, because I saw a large clay pot on its side with water pouring out. The falling water was unutterably beautiful and meaningful to me, and I can still visualize it and experience remnants of the feeling.”

Afterwards, she felt lighter, and smiled and shook her head whenever she mentioned the “little men.” She realized that her “sister” is here, in this lifetime, as a relative, but they are not close this time. Apparently they decided to “take this lifetime off” from whatever goal they are working on. I hope to see her again soon, and see what changes God has wrought.

Client, “Actually, I was very close to that sister in this lifetime, and she was still my sister, although there were many years in which I didn’t live near each other. She’s the first person I knew who had psychic experiences and told me about them. Her husband told me that the last time the 3 of us were together we were Chinese, and my sister had me beheaded so I couldn’t take him away from her.”

“My feeling is that the lifetime I was regressed to wasn’t particularly important. The significant things in this experience were, to me – rising into the sky after my physical death and the sensation of ‘shedding’ material things. I actually had a sense of things ‘falling off of me’ as I rose until I was just consciousness; traveling in unison with the other ‘beings’ that I described – at least to myself- as ‘other cells in a body’; the untrammeled joy I felt at the sight of the water pouring from the jar, which occurred just as Harry was coming in contact with whoever came to fetch him.“

“Getting rid of Harry was also gratifying. I didn’t feel any anger toward him, as it was obvious to me that he hung on to me as a way of ignoring his own problems.”

“I think I just realized what the falling water symbolized. I think it was for Harry. He latched onto me after having died of thirst, and hung on to me because he was using me to supply him with spiritual nourishment because he didn’t know how to find his own. I think the water represented the immense amount of spiritual ‘thirst quenching’ that he realized was available to him once he had the courage to seek it for himself.”

Clients, Dentists and Spirits

Lots has been going on and I’ve had a hard time focusing on things to write about. Finances have been on my mind. It doesn’t look like I’ll have enough savings to make it through to my my retirement kicks in. I’ve been looking for work, but no dice so far. I have a trickle of income from my practice, but it’s no enough to make much difference. I do feel like I’m starting to get some traction getting clients through connections, and that’s good, unfortunately that will take more time to pay off. I have a couple of steady clients, pro bono, but they have connections that could steer more clients my way. But first I have to prove that I can deliver the goods. Things are looking good so far….

I started to do the rounds of local dentists in the area, but just a couple of conversations made it pretty clear to me that I need to finish my certification first. Ouch. So I need to sit on my hands, so to speak, for another four weeks. That will be hard. I also need to put together a flyer tailored to dentists and physicians. Maybe my dentist will be willing to give me a few minutes to help with that.

I am pursuing other avenues though. MeetUp, for instance, produces a slow trickle of leads and other ideas. One of the people there suggested ParaCon, the Paranormal Convention, that’s only a few miles up the road this year. (Is that a coincidence or what?) I though I could be a speaker, but that ship has sailed, but I signed up to be a vender and I’m working on a short presentation/dialogue I can give people as they stop by. Maybe all those times I spent manning a both at trade shows will finally pay off!

Change of subject: More things happening around spirit releasement. (That’s really a mouthful, isn’t it: “spirit releasement.” I’m going to have to come up with a better term than that.) Working on my own, after class, I’ve released about ten additional entities. I can’t help but ask my self, am I making all this up? I mean, it does seem a bit excessive. I guess you can never be sure, but I have seen some tell-tail signs that maybe there’s really something to it after all.

The first sign is the different feeling of each personality. They are really different. They speak differently, they feel different. The emotions they express as they tell their stories are sometimes quite strong. The children especially. For example, there was the twelve year old girl who was stripped, raped repeatedly in some dark place, was told it was all her fault, and then shot. The boy of eight who, with a bunch of others, was told to hide in a cave during a really bad storm. Then the cave filled with water so that they were trapped and drowned. There was the three year old who really didn’t know what happened to him, he just was looney and scared. And then there was an eighteen year old girl that died in someplace very cold and very dark. You know, after a while you reach a point where you just don’t want to know any more. But am I really making all this up? It sure doesn’t feel like it.

The other sign I get is what I feel physically when these entities leave. In one case, when the spirit was present and active, I felt a pressure on the back of my neck, almost like a hand, and there was a distinct jittery, cold sweat, nervousness throughout my body. This is something I’d been noticing, on and off, for as long as I can remember. This feeling tended to come up when I found myself alone without something “important” to occupy myself. As soon as the spirit left, I felt my whole body relax. Those feelings haven’t been back, and I’ve been sleeping better as well. I’d gotten so used to having this guy around, and I had no idea how much trouble he was causing me.

Most spirit attachments don’t have such obvious effects. Good thing, since most people have attachments, to some degree or other, we’d all be running around like possessed wackos, otherwise. On the other hand, when you look at all the stuff you see on the news every day, you have to wonder now many of those people are really running on their own recognizance.

I also feel something else when they leave, an intense, not unpleasant, tingling. It varies in intensity and how much of my body it covers. That might have something to do with how strong the entity was or how strongly it was attached to me. Could be either, or something else entirely. But it a pretty clear sign. I can feel it, even if I wasn’t expecting them to leave when they did. I suspect it has to do with the the return of the energy that they were taking from me. Spirit attachments cause a constant energy drain on your system. Usually it’s too small to notice, but sometimes it can be a real problem. Like an app running in the background on your phone, slowing things down and draining the battery. Shut it down and everything runs that much more sprightly. I think that the tingling is a momentary jolt caused by energy being returned to me.

It’s interesting that I’m getting so much experience with all these kind of things, things I wouldn’t have admitted knowing anything about ten years ago. And I seem to be starting to run unto people who need help in these areas as well, so cross fingers and put stuff out there.